


Scriddler Drabbles

by DittyWrites



Series: Scarecrow/Riddler Shenanigans [1]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Batman: The Animated Series, DCU, DCU (Animated), DCU (Comics)
Genre: A collection of various drabbles and mini-fics i've done, Awkward Flirting, Blood, Cuddling, Dancing, First Kiss, Flirting, Fluff, Injury, Lunch, M/M, Scriddler, Shared Clothing, Teacher AU, Threats of Violence, i just want them all in one place
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-17
Updated: 2018-03-31
Packaged: 2018-04-26 18:51:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 10,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5016163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DittyWrites/pseuds/DittyWrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of the various Edward Nygma/Jonathan Crane drabbles i've made.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prompt - "I'm Flirting With You."

“Why are you sitting so close to me, Edward? Have i not have made my feelings on the concept of personal space very clear.” Jonathan asked as he sipped from his mug of coffee. He was already unimpressed with finding the self-proclaimed genius waiting in his lair for him and his close proximity was unusual to say the least.

“I’m flirting with you.” Edward smirked and leaned in closer to the oblivious chemist.

His face a picture of confusion, Jonathan could not help but inquire. “Why?”

“What do you mean why?” Edward was incredulous. “Why do people normally flirt? Did you never receive the talk about the ‘birds and the bees’? Because if you did not this will be a rather awkward exchange.”

Hiding an irritated blush, Jonathan answered evenly. “Of course i did Edward. But why me of all people? Do i seem like the romantic type?”

“Well,” Edward started, “I was in this part of town anyway and i was feeling  _amorous,”_  he emphasized the word by placing a hand on Jonathans’ thigh, “and you were the nearest individual who possesses the appropriate mental capacity to meet my standards.”

Jon snorted. “How charming. You really do have a way of making a girl feel special.” He put the mug back up to his mouth.

“Plus i am insatiably curious as to how talented you are with those long fingers of yours. I bet they could reach into all those hard-to-find places.”

Edward had never seen an actual spit-take before but the wonderful sight of Jonathan Crane choking on his drink might actually have been worth the failed seduction attempt.


	2. Teacher AU!

“So, Dr Crane is it? To what do I owe the pleasure for such a visit?” Mr Nygma asked in a falsely cheerful voice as the much feared school councilor walked into his classroom and shut the door quietly behind him.

“Mr Nygma.” Crane nodded in greeting. “This week alone I have had three senior children appear in my office in tears after you publicly humiliated them in front of their peers.” He accused lazily. “This type of behaviour will not be tolerated by any student or member of staff in this establishment.”

“And?” Nygma replied as he swung cockily from his seat. “If children insist on being rude and stupid then it’s only fair to let them know their folly. I’m sure you understand.” He smirked. “But answer me this, are you actually here to inform me that I am in trouble or are you really here just to get a good look at me?”

Crane raised an eyebrow in surprise. “And why would I want to do that? Computing Science is a subject I have absolutely no interest in.”

“Curiosity.” Nygma grinned. “It’s a well known fact that you like to keep tabs on every single teacher in this school.” He jumped up from his seat and moved to stand directly in front of Crane. “Your reputation precedes you and I knew it would only be a matter of time before you sought me out to assess me as a person. So,” he paused before stepping back and opening his arms wide, “what do you think?”


	3. Prompt - "Wanna Dance?"

Edward eyed up the dancefloor with obvious interest. “Would you like to dance?”

“And why would I want to do that?” Jonathan asked incredulously.

Edward paused to adjust the comedy mask which covered his features. “ _Because,_ ” he stressed, “the last time i checked we were in a destructive relationship with each other and this is what couples are supposed to do.”

“True but most couples are also not armed to the teeth with syringes and a hidden gun.”

Edward paused. “I will let you have that one. How many syringes do you actually have squirreled away?”

“Enough.” Jonathan smirked. “And since when do you know how to dance?”

“I am a gentleman with very refined and expensive taste. I’ve been waltzing at parties for years.” He paused while Jonathan snorted in disbelief. “That said, I did get bored a few years ago and completed a very intense swing dancing course if that is more to your taste?” Edward offered slyly.

Jonathan pulled the golden tragedy mask from his face so that he could glare at Edward fully. “If you make any attempt to lift me from the ground then I will put you six feet under it.”

“So…that’s a no then?”

“They don’t call you a genius for nothing, Edward.” Jonathan sighed

“Jon,” Edward tapped his foot impatiently, “you were raised as a good southern boy, do not even try to tell me that you don’t know how to do a basic waltz. I can lead if it’s that stressful to you.”

Jonathans’ eyes narrowed at the comment. “I can waltz perfectly fine and as if I would ever allow you to lead me in a dance.”

“Prove it.” Edward challenged as he held out his glove-covered hand. Jonathan glanced at it for a few moments as he realised that Edward had almost succeeded in manipulating him to do as he wished.

He smirked at the effort.

“I will be leading.” He nodded as he took the gloved hand and moved them both gracefully to the dance floor..


	4. Prompt - "It Could Be Worse!"

“It could be worse.” Edward shrugged as he continued to investigate the metal door. “We could be trapped somewhere dangerous, like the lab or the industrial freezer. Stop complaining”

“Shut up Edward. I’ve barely got my rage in check at the moment and i am just looking for an excuse to kill you.” Jonathan hissed. “How can someone as intelligent as you claim to be fail to see that the door closes automatically?”

Edward turned to glare at the irate man who was leaning against the far wall of the pantry. “Well Jon, I apologise for trying to keep us safely out of the Dark Knights’ reach.”

“Do not pretend like this was part of your plan. This Wayne Tech robbery should have been simple and now we are trapped in this damn pantry until either the electromagnetic door decides to break or some employee realises that they could use a snack. And then we’ll be caught.”

“You are being crankier than usual. How about you crack open a tin of something sweet,” Edward gestured around the large pantry, “and try to get your dopamine levels up to take you out of this childish sulk.”  

“Keep pushing me Edward and I will beat you to death with some of these,” he picked up the nearest tin, “stringbeans.”

“I will refrain from pointing out the irony of you picking up stringbeans for the sake of my own safety.”

“Wise choice.”

Edward smirked as he turned back to the door, “That said. You might want to take this opportunity to fatten yourself up a little my beautiful Scarecrow. All this free food and you are standing there looking like a skeleton. Seems foolish not to take advantage.” He waited for a moment for a rude retort but when nothing came he looked around again only to be met with a cloud of dust which had been thrown directly into his face. Choking in horror, he jumped up and screeched “Jon! What the hell did you just dose me with?!”

“Flour.” Jonathan grinned wickedly, still holding the small bag. “Why Edward did you get a…fright? Did you think it was something untoward?”

Eyes narrowing, Edward growled. “Bastard. Well two can play that game.” He snatched a tray of eggs from the shelf directly to his left and threw a handful at Jonathan, the majority of them making contact with his long torso.

“That is disgusting.” Jonathan turned his nose up in distaste as he reached for another handful of flour. “I hope you’ve realised that you have just opened the floodgates of hell.”

“Bring it on, strawman.” Edward challenged as he held the egg tray up.


	5. Drive!AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based off a tumblr prompt "I was being chased by cops, jumped into the drivers seat of your car and yelled DRIVE!" AU. 
> 
> I've used VideoGameDesigner!Nygma and Criminal!Jon.

Edward had only just parked his car outside of the Wayne Tech lab when it happened. He was a few short weeks away from finally completing his ‘Riddle of the Minotaur’ video game and Mockridge had sent him out to pick up a few last-minute pieces of tech to improve the graphics. He pulled his small car up to the parking space and was just about to switch it off when the door on the passenger seat was wrenched open and a tall, dark figure threw itself in the car.

“Drive!” The incredibly tall man commanded in a deep voice. His face was uncovered and Edward could immediately tell from his style of dress and expression that this man had just committed a robbery.

The large box of chemicals marked ‘WAYNE TECH: DANGEROUS’ which the man had clutched in his arm was also a very large indicator.

“Umm…no?” Edward responded with a raised eyebrow. “Get out of my car you fool. It’s rented!” He said loudly.

“If you don’t start this car in the next five seconds i will use this,” the stranger placed the box on the floor and pulled out a razor-sharp scalpel from his inner jacket, “to slit your throat, throw your body from the car and take full ownership of it.”

Eyeing up the scalpel with obvious distaste, Edward spoke evenly. “Anywhere in particular you wish to go? Mr…?” He paused to allow the man to answer as he reversed the car out of his chosen space. He was only supposed to be out for a small trip and now he had been kidnapped. How irritating.

“Anywhere which isn’t here. And my name is not important.” The stranger replied haughtily.

Edward shrugged. “Well if you want to be rude i will just refer to you as ‘Spooky’ for the journey then.”

“Do as you like. It will not affect your chances of making it out of this alive.” He paused. “If you insist on a name then use…Jon.” 

Snorting at the obviously fake name, Edward continued. “Okay then, ‘ _Jon’_. You’re going to kill me anyway aren’t you?”

“That remains to be seen. Possibly.” Jon answered honestly.

Edward frowned in irritation, “Not really the answer i was hoping for.” They sat awkwardly for the next few minutes with a silence that was only punctured by a few attempt at small talk and Jon occasionally giving Edward a direction to follow. Taking advantage of one of the silences, Edward spoke again. “What do you need those hallucinogenics for?” He gestured to the box.

Jon couldn’t hide his mild surprise. “How do you know the box is filed with hallucinogenics?” It seemed he had chosen to carjack someone with intelligence, which was a rarity in Gotham. It was quite refreshing actually.

“I recognise the formulas.” Edward smiled. “They are printed on the side of the box. So what do you need them for?”

“My business. Not yours.” Came the bored reply. Jon had no intentions of detailing his plans to the oddly-calm man who was continuing to drive him around without any real struggle. “Why are you so calm?” He asked suddenly.

“It’s Gotham. Do you think this is the first time i’ve been kidnapped?” They shared a small awkward laugh at that and it had not escaped Edward’s notice than Jon had elected to hide his scalpel away several minutes ago. “But the last man who kidnapped me was nowhere near as attractive as you.” He added nonchalantly.

“Flattery will get you nowhere.” Jon wagged a long finger at the the attempt. “I may still kill you after all this is over.” If he was honest with himself, Jon had no intentions of killing Edward. He was too interesting and Jon suspected he would make an excellent test subject for his toxin. He mentally agreed that if the toxin didn’t break him then he would set Edward free. After all, Jon could always pay him another visit in the future.

As they approached a very quiet street, Edward made a split-second decision as he realised that Jon was very deep in thought. Opening his mouth unexpectedly, he muttered. “I apologise for this. You seem like a decent fellow. If this doesn’t kill you then maybe we could meet again in better circumstances since you have peaked my curiosity.” He paused. “Provided you promise not to kill me.”

Jon was confused at Edwards’ sudden babbling. “What? What are you apologising for?”

“This.” Slamming on the breaks quickly, Edward forced the car to a sudden stop causing the tires to screech and slide. As the car halted his momentum cause him to lurch forward and his seat belt was the only thing which saved him from a grim meeting with the steering wheel. His passenger was slightly less fortunate. In his flurry of activity Jon had forgotten to put his belt on and he was launched forward. His massive height causing his head to strike the slightly padded area just above the windshield instead of the windshield itself, which probably saved his life.

Completely stunned, Jon slumped forward onto the dashboard and his ringing ears picked up the vague sounds of a car door being wrenched open. With inhumane effort he turned his head to see what Edward was doing and wasn’t too surprised to find that he was gone. If he squinted his eyes he could faintly see Edwards’ blurry outline sprinting off into the distance. He couldn’t deny that he was mildly impressed with the mans resourcefulness. It wasn’t very often that someone escaped his clutches unscathed. 

As he reached for the glove compartment he also noticed that Edward had the foresight to also take his wallet and possessions with him and prevent Jon from finding out any more information about him. “Damn.” He hissed. Still dizzy, he dragged himself out of the car before it could attract any more attention and hobbled off into the darkness of a nearby alleyway. As he started the long journey to his lair he made a promise to himself to discover more about the irritatingly intelligent man who had managed to one-up him.


	6. First Kiss

“Well this has not worked out as expected,” Edward hissed as he gazed at the keypad which was flashing red to show its locked state, “some miscalculations may have been made.”

“Seriously Edward?” Grunting as he pulled a heavy bench to barricade the door they had just entered, Jon dropped it with a mild sigh of relief. “This door is literally the only thing standing between us and freedom and now you are telling me that you have made mistakes.”

Flushing with indignation, Edward replied hotly. “I did not make any mistake. I can re-wire the pad to allow us access but it will take me a few minutes,” a loud bang was heard from the other side of the barricaded door, “a few minutes which we do not have. It will only take those guards two minutes to burst through here and drag us back to our cells. I can still try.”

Moving his hands towards the keypad, he was just about to open the wiring box when he heard a shout from behind him.

“Edward! Wait.” Jonathan called as he approached the keypad, “I have an idea.”

Staring at the keypad, he ghosted his fingers across it, “The head guard for this section of the asylum lost a child to illness several years ago. His only child.,” he stopped to answer Edward’s question gaze, “I make a point of discovering the histories of some of the guards here for future research purposes. So if I were to hazard a guess at the code he would use, I would select-” He cut himself off as he punched in a quick series of numbers.

The keypad did nothing for a moment but then the flashing red signal disappeared, beeped, and was replaced with a solid green light.

Pulling the door open, Edward was confronted by the stiff wind of the Arkham grounds and a wide grin split his face.

“Brilliant Jonathan!” Without thinking of his actions, he turned and placed a quick kiss on Jonathan’s lips before spinning on his heel and waltzing out into the parking lot. His eyes settled on a nearby car and he checked the doors to ensure that it was unlocked.

It was.

Opening the door, he slid into the drivers seat before ducking under the dashboard and attempting to locate the wires necessary to hot-wire the vehicle.

After a moment his hands stilled as his actions caught up with him.

He has kissed Jonathan.

The older man had always been somewhat appealing in Edward’s eyes and they shared an amiable enough working relationship, arguably a friendship, but there had always been an unspoken no touching rule which they both adhered to.

Peeking over the dashboard, he glanced over at Jonathan to work out his reaction. If he looked like he was going to become violent then Edward was going to drive off, consequences be damned. He had no doubt that, if he was pissed, Jonathan would punish him and leave him here to be picked up and incarcerated back in the Asylum.

But Jonathan was doing…nothing.

He was standing exactly where Edward had left him and his expression was totally blank with a small hint of confusion which Edward was irritated to find somewhat endearing.

Testing the waters, Edward cleared his throat loudly. “Jonathan! We need to leave.”

Finally he moved.

Shaking his head slightly, Jonathan turned to face Edward and nodded almost imperceptibly. As he walked towards the car, Edward felt himself growing tenser as he anticipated some kind of further reaction.

Settling into the passengers seat, Jonathan tucked his seatbelt around himself tightly and gave Edward an expectant look, “Well hurry up then.” His voice was unreadable.

The car jumped to life and Edward wasted no time in pulling out of the parking lot, the tires screeching as he slammed on the accelerator. The wailing sirens of the Asylum grew fainter as he disappeared down the darkened road away from the Asylum and towards Gotham herself.

He considered what had happened.

He had kissed Jonathan and Jonathan had not shown any negative reaction or aggressive dislike for the act.

Interesting.

Very interesting.


	7. Past Dalliances

“I honestly don’t know how she does it!” Edward mused as he watched Harley lead the guard away from his post as she attempted to gain entry into the exclusive charity gala which was being held in Gotham Museum. Harley had called earlier to say that her and Ivy were going to gate-crash the event and it would be better for the other villains to stay away from this particular bash. That didn’t stop him and Jon from watching on the hacked CCTV cameras though. “You would have thought by now that enough people would recognise her to prevent her from being able to wink her way into events.”

“You underestimate how foolish men are when it comes to feminine wiles.” Jon contested as he leaned back lazily is his chair, keeping an eye trained on the various monitors which Edward had rigged up to watch the museum. “Plus Harley may have also been using some concoction of Ivys’ to ensure an easier seduction.” He paused before muttering quietly, “Not that she would need it.”

Edward frowned a little at the unexpected add-on and the odd tone which it was delivered in. “And what do you mean by that?” He paused to consider Jons’ words again. “Has…has Harley seduced you before?” He asked incredulously.

Jon turned to face Edward, whose face was a picture of shock, and answered with a sly smile. “Once. While I was her psychology lecturer at Gotham University. She made a failed attempt to seduce me in order to secure a higher grade but she was unsuccessful.” He smirked. “I have not brought it up since we both adopted our new personas since it would only embarrass her but i can confirm that Miss Quinzel is rather aggressive in her technique.”

“Did that scare you?” Edward asked smugly.

Scowling, Jon ignored him and continued. “It was not as though her grade was a failing one, I think she just wanted to ensure that she received a decent pass. I also know she had relations with two of my other colleagues but they were hacks to begin with so i am not surprised she was successful.”

Edward palmed his hands together and placed the tips of his fingers under his chin. “I might have to have a small word with her when we next meet.”

Jon raised an eyebrow, “Why? Are you jealous?”

“Are you kidding? I am just pleased it was before we met, I do not think I could take Harley in a fight if I found out she had attempted to seduce my current partner. I do have _some_ honour to protect.”

“True. In a physical fight Miss Quinzel would destroy you without a moments thought.”

Edward narrowed his eyes as he stared back at the monitors. “Thank you for that vote of confidence Jon.”


	8. Lunch

“Hey good-lookin’”, pinning the small bowl between his arm and his side, Edward whisked furiously at the eggs which lay inside it as he crooned at the approaching Jon, “what ya got cookin’? How’s about cookin’ something up for me?”

“What are you doing?” Jon asked in a deadpan voice as he observed his singing partner sliding across the kitchen as he prepared lunch. He had to hold back a laugh as he spotted the full ensemble which Edward was sporting, black boxers and an emerald green apron with ‘Kiss The Cook’ emblazoned across the chest.

“Is that a trick question?” Edward frowned mockingly, “I am making an omelette. Clearly.”

Ignoring his tone, Jon narrowed his eyes, “I was referring to the singing.”

“I am in a good mood, my emaciated lover, so why shouldn’t I grace you with my dulcet tones? You should join me.” He winked.

“Singing encourages human bonding and I have no desire for anything of the sort.” Jon crossed his arms across his chest but his mischievous eyes betrayed his monotonous tone.

Continuing to whisk his eggs at an appropriate pace, Edward nodded his head in fake understanding, “Well in that case I hope you enjoy bonding with the living room because there is no room in my kitchen for someone so devoid of any sense of fun. Your commitment to being a miserable bastard is admirable.”

“Are we really going to play that gam-” Jon rolled his eyes as he was cut off by Edward, who had started to sing more forcefully.

“HOW DO YOU LIKE YOUR TOAST IN THE MORNING?” Edward bellowed in a pleasant tenor as he turned his back on Jon to continue his preparations.

Sensing an opportunity, Jon slid in behind Edward and placed his hand over his mouth, cutting off the noise, as he leaned down to murmur in his ear, “I like mine with a drug. Specifically, fear toxin. Which I will flood this kitchen with if you do not put an end to this noise immediately.”

Breaking free with very little effort, Edward ducked out of Jon’s reach before shaking his head imperceptibly, “Nice try Jon but the correct lyrics were ‘I like mine with a hug’. Shall we try another one?”

Snorting at Edward’s hubris, Jon dropped into one of the available chairs at the kitchen table, “I think I prefer my version.”

“I am sure you do,” Edward smirked as he dumped the eggs into a hot pan, “could you set the table please?”


	9. Injury

Opening the small bottle of disinfectant with his teeth, Jon cleansed the needle he intended to use while continuing to apply pressure to the leg wound of the man whimpering beside him. “You are aware that this will hurt, yes?”

“Obviously.” Edward hissed as he eyed up the needle apprehensively. “I generally do not advocate child murder,” he paused, his throat tightening slightly as Jon applied the first stitch to his thigh, “but if I catch that child in the streets I will do everything in my power to kill it.” He winced rhythmically as Jon continued to insert the needle into his leg in a trained and methodical manner.

Humming as he concentrated, Jon responded slowly. “Try to calm yourself, if your heart rate increases then you will lose more blood and make my task more difficult. But if you feel like passing out please alert me so I do not accidentally stab myself with the needle at your sudden dead weight.” Jon allowed a small smirk to appear on the corner of his mouth. “And should you succeed in murdering his runt, I imagine the Batman will do far worse than slice up your thigh.”

“How bad is it?” Edward inquired, trying to force some levity into his voice. He conceded Jons’ point mentally, if he murdered a Robin the laws of probability suggested that he may end up in a full body-cast for at least six months. Or worse.

His hands did not stop but a note of hesitation appeared in Jons’ voice as he answered, “Three inches higher and your femoral artery would have been severed and you would most likely be dead.”

Edward perked up slightly at Jon’s words as he tried to ignore the throbbing and stabbing pains which were afflicting him. “Is that an element of worry I hear in your tone? I am honoured but I encourage you not to worry, I will not be taken out by a mere child with a sharp toy.”

“I fear the blood loss has made you truly delusional. I am not worried.” Jon quipped as he tied the final stitch and leaned back to admire his handiwork. “Would you like me to kiss it better?” He asked in a deadpan voice. “I would offer you a lollipop for being such a great patient but i am fresh out.”

Sighing, Edward moved his body around, taking great care to not disturb his leg, and placed his head in Jon’s lap. “I have lost far too much blood to appreciate your sarcasm at this moment in time dear. Quieten down so i can sleep or pass out, whichever comes first.” Snorting slightly, Jon shifted to allow Edward to find a more comfortable position as they both attempted to find some peace after their disastrous night.


	10. Text Message

_Bzzt._

_Bzzt._

Grunting in displeasure as the vibrations of his phone caused his elbows to shudder and disrupt the steadiness of his hand, Jonathan carefully placed the small test tube back in its usual spot. 

Sighing in annoyance as he picked up the phone, he squinted at the bright screen bringing it to his face for closer inspection. 

It was a text message. 

From Edward.

Curious, he clicked the small button to open it and a strangled squawk of surprise escaped him as he took in the lurid green text which filled the screen:

_**I’m gonna suck that spooky dick!** _

Whirling around in his seat, his feet clattered to the hard flooring as his eyes swept across the basement as they sought out the source of his misery with an aggravated glare.

Edward was still hunched over his own workbench, a picture of innocence if it weren’t for the slight jerking of his shoulders as he clearly suppressed the laughter which was threatening to burst from him.

“Edward,” Jonathan growled before pausing and counting to ten before concluding with a truly exasperated, “why?”

Slowly spinning to face the question, Edward had schooled his features into a pleasant smile as he finally turned fully to face him.

“I thought you would appreciate the sentiment.” He offered, giving an exaggerated shrug to emphasize his point.

“Not when i am holding a test tube full of sulfuric acid which is strong enough to dissolve human bone.”

“Well then i apologize,” Edwards’ sarcasm was clear, “and if this is the treatment i am to receive for attempting to be romantic then i recant my offer.”

 Frowning, Jonathan held up a placating hand as he quickly backtracked.

“Well, let us not be too hasty…”

Flicking his phone between his fingers with a casual ease, Edward laughed.


	11. Stolen Clothing

The moment the door snapped shut behind him, he knew that something was wrong. Instinct was an invaluable skill and his senses was screaming at him that he was not alone in the darkness of his lair. Every light was off, the only illumination coming from the moonlight which pierced through the window, as he squinted through the shadows.

As far as he was aware, no other living being knew of this particular hideout so if he were discovered then someone had went to some effort.

And that could only mean trouble.

Baring his teeth, he tightened his hands into fists as he prepared for a confrontation, “Show yourself.” He hissed, loudly enough to allow his voice to carry throughout the dingy room.

“Show yourself!” A masculine voice relayed his words back to him with a false deepness to them that was designed to mock him, “Seriously, Jonathan?”

It took a moment to place, but the voice was unmistakable.

“Edward, what a pleasant surprise,” pausing Jonathan sought out the source of the sound and was surprised to vaguely make out Edwards’ shadow lying across his sofa. “Should I grab my scythe?” His voice was gruff, a hint of a joke somewhere within it.

“If it will make you more comfortable.” An even response.

“Why are you here, Edward?” Not that he minded too much but he had been under the assumption that the genius was busy tonight they would not see each other until tomorrow, “And, more importantly, why are you wearing my favourite hat?”

From Edwards’ silhouette he could tell that he was wearing the large, spindly hat which completed his preferred Scarecrow costume. Narrowing his eyes at the mannequin which usually housed it, he could confirm that it was missing from its stand.

“You have a favourite?” Edward asked in surprise before shifting his tone into something much more cocky, “Do you not think I look good Jon? It fits me perfectly.”

“You are a vision for the ages.” Jonathan replied instantly in a deadpan tone as his eyebrows furrowed. Edward Nygma was up to something.

Edwards’ soft snort was audible in the darkness and, as he shifted in position, a sudden glint in the light caught Jonathans’ attention as he realised that another part of his valuable costume was sure to be missing from its rack.

He knew he should have grabbed his scythe.

“Are you wearing my needle glove?”

“Might be.”

The sound of clinking metal was hard to miss as Edward brought his hand into the small slivers of moonlight which streaked the room as he showed Jonathan his glove-covered hand.

Staring openly, Jonathan could see that the glove was too large for his slim hands as the ends of it hung limply down instead of being secured as they should have.

Taking a step towards the sofa, he asked the question which was unavoidable, “Are you planning on using it on me?” Racking his brain, he could think of no reason why Edward would be mad at him but he would be ready if needed.

“To be honest, I had not decided yet,” Edward confessed, “but I am here for business so I would not want to ruin negotiations preemptively.”

Another bold step.

“Here for business? Not pleasure?”

Edward snorted again, “As if you could ever give me pleasure.”

Even though he knew Edward was looking to get a rise from him, he still bristled against the insult and with one final step he reached the sofa.

Still using the darkness for cover, he decided to play him at his own game and, leaning down into Edwards’ personal space, growled, “Are we feeling dangerous tonight, Edward?”

“Always.”


	12. I Just Want This

“What do you want, Jon?”

Breaking the silence, Edward disturbed the comfort of their situation as he tilted his head.

Eyes darting up from his journal, Jonathan frowned.

“Can you elaborate on that clearly open-ended question?”

“What I mean is, what do you want from me? What are your expectations from this relationship?” He elaborated, jerking his shoulders. “It is an easy question.”

“I realise that it is an easy question but i am also intelligent enough to recognise the danger in it.”

Jonathan was silent for a moment before continuing.

“What do you want from it?”

“Technically, i asked you first.” An immature response, he knew.

Understanding that he would not get peace until he gave an answer, Jonathan relented.

“I just want this.” He sighed as he gestured vaguely around him. “Just this. Exactly how it is. No expectations.”

He paused.

“Now shut up and let me read.”

Pleased with the answer but unable to resist an opportunity to wind Jonathan up a little.

“This? You want this!” He copied Jon’s vague gesture. “You want my apartment? MY APARTMENT! You sneaky straw bastard.” Edward bit back a laugh as he saw Jonathans’ hand twitch in irritation.

“I have changed my mind.” Jonathan offered conversationally. “What I want from this relationship is you, lying on the floor, reliving all the horrors of your past due to the fear toxin coursing through your system while i watch passively with a glass of decent bourbon.”

Edward opened his mouth to retort but was cut off the sharp warning glance which Jonathan sent him way. 

“I think i preferred the first option.” He muttered lamely.

“They don’t call you a genius for nothing, dear.”


	13. Home Videos

“So I made a porno, so what? Everyone is making them these days.”

Edwards’ tone was flooded with embarrassment as he watched his younger self roll around a luxury bed with his two old partners. The small television and its built-in DVD player had been set up for him coming home and the feral grin which graced Jonathans’ face when he answered the door had been enough to set his teeth on edge until the grand reveal.

He could not believe that Jonathan had found his porno.

“So…” Jonathan prompted, his sadistic joy at having found such a precious gem of potential shame had made his day and he was fully looking forward to exploiting it. As soon as he had noticed the blank DVD which was simply marked with the word “Eddie’s” in lurid green marker he had known what it was. 

Understanding that he could not lie his way out of this one, Edward confessed all.

“It was Query and Echos’ idea. It must have been about,” glancing at the screen again, he attempted to discern his age based on his hair style and the clothing which was dotted around the room, “ten years ago and they convinced me that it would be something fun to remember us by when we were separated by Arkham or Blackgate. They both also possess a copy.”

“And that does not concern you?” Jonathan was surprised with the lackadaisical attitude Edward was demonstrating. “They could use it as blackmail material?”

“I would be disappointed if that idea had never occurred to them,” Edward smiled fondly, “but my girls are too loyal to try that. Plus they would not like to get on your bad side and this would be a very concise way of achieving that.”

Pausing the DVD just as a very exposed shot of his ass was present on the screen, Edward rolled his eyes at it and turned to Jonathan again.

“How did you even discover it?”

“Even a genius like yourself, Edward, is still a man at the end of the day.” Jonathan accused as he smirked. “It was in that cardboard box which you have hidden at the bottom of your closet along with a host of other vintage pornography and assorted filth.”

“The wording there implies that, as a man, you also possess a box. Do you?”

“Of course.”

“Can I have a rifle through it? Do you have any questionable DVD’s featuring yourself in there?” Edward teased, smiling as Jonathan twisted his face in denial. “But I suppose in your case it is much more likely to be on a VHS or possibly a film reel?”

“Was that a dig at my age? This is your crucifixion, not mine, so as the kids would say, ‘take your lumps’, Edward.” 

Unpausing the movie, Jonathan scolded him lightly.

“We could make our own,” knowing how Jonathans’ mind worked, Edward quickly settled on seduction as being his method of escaping this embarrassment, “you, me and a HD camera set up on a tripod. Hell, i’ll even steal or build one of those IMAX cameras if it takes your fancy.”

Splitting his gaze between the thrusting Edward on the screen and the flustered Edward to his side, Jonathan shook his head as he grinned.

“We both know that I do not show up on film, Edward. You will not escape this.”

Crossing his arms petulantly, Edward faked a scowl as Jonathan started to laugh and the deep-bellied nature of it was so genuine that Edward supposed he could maybe allow him this one thing.

Maybe.


	14. Hostess Party (ft the Sirens)

Jonathan Crane rarely felt uncomfortable.

Discomfort was an emotion which was wasted on people who cared what opinions others formed on them and Jonathan was pleased to be able to count himself out of that particular category.

But as Edward continued to flick through the brochure which Selina had handed to him, the brochure which Jonathan understood was filled to the brim with sexual accessories and ‘toys’, he felt the urge to shift his body and frown.

“Hey Jonathan, would you consider yourself a ‘medium’ or 'large’ in terms of novelty underwear? This one features an elephants trunk! Look,” holding the magazine up, Edward indicated the image with his index, “normally I would just buy medium but I do not trust the measurements given the proposed level of spandex in the material.”

“Edward,” Jonathan sighed, “I am physically fighting the urge to flood this entire room with toxin rather than have this debacle continue.”

He hated these nights.

They only happened twice a year but he dreaded the ritual humiliation which tended to follow.

“All right, all right,” Edward pacified him as he held up a hand in acquiesce, “I forget that you lack a sense of humour about these things.”

As Jonathan twisted his head towards the wall rather than dignify that comment with an answer, Edward quickly nodded to Selina and mouthed a very clear 'medium’ before returning his gaze to Jonathan.

“Aww! C'mon Doctah Crane!” Harley called out, poking her head out over her own magazine, “Pammy and I have had loadsa fun with stuff from these magazines! Kitty always makes sure our orders come super quickly!”

Ignoring her, Jonathan focused on Selina.

“How did you even get into this business?”

“It’s fun and I make good scratch from it.” She shrugged unapologetically. “I make 40% of everything which I can sell and it is always fun to watch your handsome face squirm when confronted by something as fun as dildos.”

Blanching at the word, Jonathans’ eyes shot to Edward, who was failing to keep a grin from his face, and he scowled.

“I am not a prude.” He defended.

And he wasn’t but this was…too much.

“Then catch.” Hurling her hand into the nearby luggage bag which Selina was contractually obliged to bring to each party, Ivys’ hand curled around something thick and not too hard and she pulled it free and launched it across the room at the self-proclaimed Master of Fear himself.

His reactions slower than he would confess to, Jonathan missed the catch and the item bounced off his temple before falling into his lap.

Staring at it in horror, the unrealistically-large, pink rubber phallus on his knees almost seemed to stare back at him, mocking him, as he froze.

Jumping from his position, he allowed the monstrosity to fall to the floor with a loud thud and as it started to move along the floor, he realised that it had also somehow switched itself on as it vibrated away like an insect.

As the laughter from Edward and the three ladies reached him, his scowl deepened until his forehead was marred with thick frown lines and, finished with this nonsense, he marched towards the door of the basement and disappeared into the darkness below.

Wiping the tears of laughter from his eyes, Edward coughed to clear the laughter from his throat.

“I hate to cut this short ladies but I am afraid my partner is literally going to reappear in three minutes with a fresh batch of toxin to punish us all for our fun.”

Indicating the door with his hand, he waved them off.

“Harley, it’s always a pleasure. Pamela, not so much.” He smirked. “And Selina I want you to order those elephant briefs, two pairs of the green handcuffs and that purple vibrating thing which made Jonathan choke on his coffee earlier. I’ll wire the money to the usual account.”

“Will do, Eddie.” Selina laughed as she pushed Harley and Ivy out the door before her as the sounds of approaching footsteps came from the basement. “Will do.”


	15. Suspicion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Characters are suspected of being lovers, which is forbidden in their line of work.

“Do you both understand why you have been brought here for this meeting?”

Dr Wallace had clasped his hands so tight that the whites of his knuckles were visible and if the look of unhappiness on his face were to be interpreted, he had drawn the short straw of having to hold this particular meeting.

Their own hands bound and secured for the safety of those around them, Jonathan and Edward wore identical expressions of bored passiveness as they surveyed each other and their would-be interrogator.

“You wanted to ask some basic questions about human psychology that your underdeveloped brain was unable to comprehend?” Edward ventured, brushing some dirt off his lap.

A muscle jumped in the doctors jaw.

“I don’t require the help of the insane for anything.” Wallace countered between clenched teeth. “You have nothing which i need.”

“That is a very narrow minded view to take, Stephen.” Shaking his head, Jonathan tutted his disappointment. “You know much knowledge can be gained from those on the fringes of societies acceptable mental norms.”

“That’s ‘Dr. Wallace’ to you, Crane.”

His smile polite yet somehow dangerous, Jonathan said nothing.

“You are both here today,” Dr Wallace continued, “because there have been some ‘rumours’ about your activities within the asylum which are against our ethical code and therefore unacceptable.”

“Rumours?” A tinge of encouragement laced Edwards’ tone as he feigned innocence.

“There have been reports of both sounds and, in one case,” Wallace paused to read a quote from his clipboard, “'questionable stains’ from the staff who are responsible for the maintenance of your room.”

Sharing a quick glance with Jonathan, Edward chuckled.

“I will admit that perhaps the good Dr. Crane and I here do not always see eye to eye on certain issues so we are prone to the occasional disagreement which typically ends in a physical confrontation.”

“So you are attempting to claim that these rumours are the result of your shared violent outbursts?”  

A shadow of relief seemed to cross Wallaces’ face at the explanation and there was a barely perceptible unclenching of his hands.

“I must confess, as bad as it sounds, that I am pleased that it was fighting because the rumours had implied that you were both engaged in a sexu-”

“Did I say that we were fighting?” Edward interrupted, looking to Jonathan for an answer.

Smirking, Jonathan shook his head.

“No, I do not believe you did.”

“But- you said?”

“He said,” Jonathan clarified, “'physical confrontation’ and I think, despite being divorced twice for younger and more conventionally attractive partners, that even you can understand the alternate meaning behind such a phrase.”

“So you are both engaged in a…physical relationship?”

As both men sat in a smug silence, Dr Wallace felt his temper spike.

“Well not in this establishment! From tomorrow you with both be separated and given-”

“That arrangement does not suit me, Stephen.” Jonathan interrupted this time, and his tone was almost apologetic as his smile widened. “I will be keeping my room with Mr. Nygma here and our business will remain exactly that, our business.”

“I am the doctor here and you will respect my authority on this matter!” Wallace hissed.

“A question for you, Stephen.” Edward laced his hands beneath his chin and he leaned rudely across the desk. “How many escapes, both for myself and others, have I facilitated from this asylum? And how many members of staff have been forced to leave due to the psychological prowess of the man to my side?”

He indicated Jonathan with a lazy two-handed wave.

“If you make some foolish attempt to separate us for something so trivial I will personally oversee a new age of difficulty which will arise for every individual unfortunate enough to be employed by this establishment.” His voice was firm, unshakable. “From senior staff to janitorial, none will be unaffected by the trouble which I guarantee will be stirred up between us.”

“Are you threatening me?” Despite the bravado which Wallace was attempting to show, the shaking of his hands belied his true feelings.

“Do you feel threatened?”

Sensing weakness, Jonathan had followed Edwards’ movements as his body moved instinctively towards his potential prey.

“GUARDS!” Wallace bellowed and before either man could move the door slammed open and both found themselves held into place by two guards each.

Unperturbed by the change in circumstance, both Jonathan and Edward continued to stare out the doctor in a silent battle of wills.

“Take these two out of here and,” a pause in his instructions as he settled on a decision, “return them to their cell.” He finished lamely.

Nygma was correct, as much as the thought pained him, and he could not risk the chaos and potential loss of life to his staff.

“Stephen!”

Calling out over his shoulder as he was hauled from the room, Edward waited until he had the doctors full attention before offering the long-suffering fool a conspiratorial wink.


	16. Children

“With the adjustments I have made to the system, all you need to do is flip a switch and the entire museum will flood with toxin.”

Directing Jonathans’ gaze to the button in question, Edwards’ boastful tone rang throughout the small security booth. The guard whose post they had occupied was unconscious, tucked away in the corner to prevent detection by any unwanted gaze.

As Edwards’ eyes flicked through the various security cameras which covered the floor space of the museums rooms, they settled on the one which focused on the East wing.

“Hmm,” he muttered, “what a poor choice of location for such a trip.”

The screen was full of children.

A considerable amount of them.

Disgusting little things, all grabbing hands and filthy faces, and from his estimate they would be around five or six years old. A kindergarten class, most likely. Why a school thought that the local museum would hold any interest to such a young mind was beyond him but Edward felt a brief moment of sympathy for their poor decision making.

“Do you want me to make an announcement before you release the toxin or…”

Turning back to his partner, Edward was caught off guard by the indecision which now clouded Jonathans’ features as his gaze also latched on to the screen.

“Jonathan?”

The slight shuffling of Jonathans’ shoes against the tiled flooring was the only indication of agitation which Edward could detect as he waited for a response.

“They are children.”

Again surprised by the hesitation, Edward quirked a brow.

“I never took you for the sentimental type,” spinning in his seat, he gave Jonathan his full attention as he abandoned the switch, “is this the unseen side of Jonathan Crane? Paternal instinct?”

Barely refraining from rolling his eyes, Jonathan had the grace to sound almost bored as he explained.

“My toxin will destroy their minds at such a young age. At best, they could recover if they received  enough intense therapy but at worst they would be traumatised for life. It is a waste of their potential.”

“Have you ever used your toxin on a child before?” Edward inquired, curiosity peaked with the change of conversation.

“Never intentionally,” Jonathan confessed after a moment, “but I must assume that there have been casualties in my various experiments. Unavoidable.”

Placing his elbows on his knees, Edward positioned his hands beneath his chin. This was an aspect of Jonathan which he had never experienced before. Usually the scientist would use any opportunity to release his toxin onto the unsuspecting populace and yet this hesitation was both uncharacteristic and puzzling.

Edward loved puzzles.

“You have never taken children into account before when we plotted out attacks.” His tone was accusatory.

“You have never brought the presence of a large group of them to my attention before.” Jonathan shot back without flinching.

“True,” Edward agreed, “but I fail to see why you are willing to pass up on this opportunity for the sake of a gaggle of noisy brats.”

“Aside from destroying the children, which incidentally would place me on par with the Joker as a child-killer in terms of public opinion, I do not need the extra attention from the Bat over something which brings me no scientific advancement.” Taking in a deep breath, he continued. “Children do not need toxin to confront their greatest fears, they make no attempt to hide their distress of the world and it would be pointlessly cruel to force it upon them.”

“A fair argument,” Edward conceded, “and more altruistic than I would have given you credit for.”

“Would you do it?” Jonathan asked, eyes zeroing in on Edwards’ expression as he sought out the truth. “Would you flip the switch? Knowing what it would do?”

“Me?” Placing a hand over his heart, Edward feigned disappointment in the question. “I am not an animal without reason or logic so I do not attack children. Their youthful idiocy is as natural as the sun and I cannot hold that against them.”

Seeing the truth in his statement, Jonathan sighed as he settled into a chair of his own. They were safe in this security room and they could wait until the brats left the building before deploying the toxin. A boring wait was preferable to a vendetta from the Bat and the possible burden of regret.

Tutting, Jonathan drummed his fingers on a monitor.

“The children of Gotham truly have no idea of the benefits which their youth brings them.”

“That they do not,” Edward agreed as he put his feet up on the console before repeating, “that they do not.”


	17. Clumsy

“If your filthy ass touches even one fiber of my fabric couch,” Edward drawled as his pinpoint vision darted around the pristine couch, “then i will be burning it and charging the price of the replacement to your personal account.”

Slapping a hand on his bare chest in faux outrage, Jonathan glared for a few moments before twisting in position and lying outright on the couch, placing his head on the armrest and allowing his large feet to dangle over the opposite side.

“You will find that my background as a scientist has made my hygiene levels impeccable, Edward,” Jonathan responded as he placed his hands behind his head, “unlike some people,” a pointed look, “who seem to enjoy the sensation of having grease and oil embedded into the skin of their palms.”

“Some of us work hard.” Edward bit back, unable to help rising to the bait.

In lieu of a response, Jonathan smirked at the raised tone.

“Why are you wearing so little?” His natural curiosity overriding his annoyance, Edward switched his voice back to its regular manner as he sought out an answer. “Not that i am complaining about the view but this is a little out of character for the self-proclaimed  _‘Master of Fear’_.”

Jonathan twisted his head to meet Edwards’ eye, “Is a man not allowed to change his ways? Am i not entitled to my own choice? Such an opinion seems very foolish for a man of your perceived intelligence, you the self-proclaimed genius.”

Narrowing his eyes in suspicion, Edward again allowed his eyes to sweep over the room as he attempted to work out Jonathans’ motives. He could see nothing out of place but as he sharpened his senses he could detect a slightly acrid smell and the familiarity of it caused him to fold his arms and tilt his head cockily. 

Bingo.

“You smashed another beaker of acid over your clothing, didn’t you?” He accused, confident in his deduction. “I am unaware of what vendetta your toxin appears to have against your clothing but i admire its persistence.”

Caught out in his own clumsiness, Jonathan hissed defensively. 

“ _It fell of its own accord_.”


	18. Don't Be A Bitch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt was “Hey, don’t be a bitch, I could be arrested for this.”

“Hey, don’t be a bitch, I could be arrested for this.”

Switching off the engine of the car, Edward pulled up the handbrake and turned to the man at his side.

“Is this honestly your biggest criminal concern at the moment?” Jonathan asked incredulous as he twisted to meet Edwards’ gaze. “So all those other charges such as kidnapping, murder and being an all-round abhorrent member of polite society now pale in comparison to this?”

“My point is still valid,” Edward argued, unwilling to concede, “what you have asked me to do is illegal.”

Clenching his jaw in irritation, Jonathan pushed his glasses back up his nose.

“If you are so worried about the law then move and park somewhere else.”

“You told me to drive up and park here,” Edward pointed to the large ‘No Parking’ sign which sat before the car, “despite my telling you that there were perfectly good spaces just a few yards away. You INSISTED that we park here and here we are. Illegally.”

“So now you have,” Edward continued as he glanced down at his watch, “until I catch sight of the first police cruiser to pass by, to go into the store and pick up what we need.”

“If I enter this store,” Jonathan threatened through his clenched teeth, “and leave to find that you have abandoned me with a weeks worth of shopping to make my own way home I swear that you will never know peace until you expire, Edward. Which will be rather quickly as I am liable to throttle the life from you for your pettiness.”

Ignoring the threats and tapping lazily on his watch, Edward tilted his head.

“Riddle me this, Jonathan. I fly without wings, what am I?”

“Time.” Jonathan answered without hesitating as he threw open the car door and prepared to walk into the store. “And I swear, yours will be limited if you leave me here.”

“And that is a risk you will just have to take so goodbye, dear.” Edward waved at him with a condescending waggle of his fingers. “Don’t have too much fun and feel free to purchase me some of those delightful little animal cracker things I am partial to.”

In lieu of a verbal answer and refusing to rise to the bait, Jonathan flipped him off.


	19. Immaturity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ed is an immature wee prick when the mood takes him. Lmao x

“I just like making people uncomfortable,” Jonathan admitted, pouring himself a small mug of coffee as his expression remained decidedly unrepentant, “because it makes me feel better in my own life and I do not need any further justification than that. Fear is my power.”

“Wait,” Edward feigned confusion as he tilted his head, “What did you say? You LIKE making people feel uncomfortable?”

Slamming his mug down on the kitchen table, the piercing clink of the ceramic as it came into contact with the wooden surface caused both men to wince but Edward covered it as he settled into the role he was about to play.

“I cannot,” pausing, he held a hand to his forehead dramatically, “I just cannot believe this. How could I have been so blind as to have never noticed this aspect of your personality? Riddle me that? Eh, Jonathan? What a fool I am? A fool!”

Jumping from the table, Edward kept his expression full of shock and disbelief as Jonathan scowled at him, realising that he was now being mocked.

“The Riddler!” He paced along the kitchen floor with his hands clasped in faux worry. “That's what they call me! If only they knew! With these revelations I may have to change that to something more appropriate, like Edward 'The Ignorant'' Nygma.”

Carefully ducking the rolled-up kitchen towel which came flying his way, Edward pulled his phone from his pocket and swiftly punched in a number. Clicking the loudspeaker button, he waited for the recipient to answer.

“Hello?” A female voice rang out from the phone.

“Selina! Dear!” Edward called out loudly, ignoring the loud growl which was sent his way from the now-empty handed Jonathan. “Were you aware of the fact that Jonathan liked to make people uncomfortable? I feel betrayed by this new information and I feel the shock may send me to an early grave.”

A long-suffering sigh came through the speaker.

“Is Jonathan there with you?”

“Quite possibly, yes.”

Edward confirmed her suspicions as Jonathans' growl again raised in volume to signal that he was, in fact, present in the room.

“Did you seriously drag me out of my morning sleep just to get me involved in this nonsense which has nothing to do with me? Just so you can wind him up? Edward?”

“Again, possibly.”

“Goodbye, children.” Selina offered and the line went dead as she hung up on him.

“Damn,” Edward muttered before tapping the phone with a thoughtful finger, “now who else can I phone? Who else needs to know about this development?! Harley could do with the warning. What about Dent?”

As Jonathan took a step towards his position, his irritation was clear as Edward watched the small vein in his temple throb delicately as his his hands curled around one of the kitchen chairs.

Twisting away, Edward hid a smile.

“Edward.”

“Yes, Jonathan?”

Edward turned back to face his partner but he was again forced to dodge as Jonathans' spindly hands flew out and attempted to grab the phone from his steady grasp. Unfortunately, the unexpected nature of it caused him to release a very feminine squeak of surprise as he again moved out of Jonathans' range.

“Give. Me. The. Phone. Edward.”

Each word which Jonathan had bitten out was punctuated by him taking another step towards Edwards as the redhead mirrored him by taking some very deliberate steps backward.

“The people have a right to know about this,” Edward argued, “so you cannot censor me, Jonathan.”

A wolfish grin causing his features to light up in his mirth.

Honestly, he was unsure what was inspiring this act of pure childishness but he was happy to ride it out until either Jonathan gave up and saw the humour in the situation or attempted to knock him out.

Whichever came first.

 


	20. Footsie

Edward Nygma was bored.

This ‘expert’ in criminal psychology had spent an inhumane period of time boring him with his various questions and theories as to what made him tick, as though such a thing could be quantified so easily, and he was nearing his wits end as to how much more of such dullness he was willing to take.

Seated opposite him at the table, hands fully cuffed in a similar position, was Jonathan and if his expression was anything to go by, Edward was certain that the good Dr. Crane was also only moments away from causing a big enough scene to put an end to this farce.

A wicked idea came to him.

A wicked idea that could solve both their problems.

Slipping his foot from the soft shoes which all Arkham residents were forced to wear, Edward snaked his foot gently along the floor until it reached the solid mass which he was quick to recognise as Jonathans’ foot.

At the first contact, Jonathan jumped ever so slightly and he glanced at Edward for a moment before returning his gaze to the boring doctor.

Raising his foot a few inches, he weaseled his toes up the open end of Jonathans’ pant leg and rubbed at his ankle with soft movements. For his efforts, he was rewarded with a longer glance this time as Jonathan attempted to work out his play.

Offering a small smile, Edward pulled his foot from the ankle and instead concentrated on laying his entire foot flat across Jonathans’ covered shins while the scientist let out a pointed ‘tut’ of disapproval as he again moved his attention elsewhere.

Well, that just simply would not do.

Pushing his chair in further to give him more reach, Edward tapped the softest traces of shapes out on the thin expanse of Jonathans’ thighs with the tips of his toes as he attempted to get a reaction and a smirk curled his lips when the breath visibly caught in Jonathans’ throat as he continued to inch his foot higher.

And higher.

And higher.

Until-

“Edward!”

As Edward felt the ball of his foot come into full contact with Jonathans’ groin it seemed that Jonathan was unable to keep his mouth closed any longer, the legs of his chair clattering as he jumped back in his seat away from the invading limb and glared as his tormentor.

“Yes?”

Edward schooled his features into a picture of innocence.

“Do. Not. Do. That. Again.”

Each word was punctuated by a small pause as Jonathan stressed the level of his annoyance.

“What?” Edward exclaimed. “What happened?” 

It was a challenge and they both knew it.

Moving faster than either Edward or the doctor could anticipate, Jonathan swung his leg out to the side and hooked his foot inside of the small metal wastepaper basket which lay on the floor next to the bolted down-legs of the table. 

Flicking his foot with considerable force, he hurled the basket under the table towards Edward.

A grunt of pain escaped Edwards’ throat as the basket came into full contact with his unprotected shins but his lips soon curled into a smile as he viewed the mixture of confusion on the face of the doctor and the look of pure irritation which coloured Jonathans’ features.

He never handled boredom too well. 


	21. Drunken Memories

Blinking awake, the immediate wash of varying emotions which overcame Edward were numerous but the one which sunk its claws deepest into his psyche was, oddly enough, regret.

“What happened?” Even to his own ears, his voice sounded groggy and his eyes quickly adjusted to reveal Jonathans’ unamused expression.

“What do you remember?” Jonathan asked rather than answer.

“I recall two bottles of red wine disappearing before my eyes and I can vaguely detect the remnants of top-shelf tequila coating my lips.” Frown lines appearing across his forehead, Edward looked at a loss as he struggled to regain his memory. “I also think I remember kissing you, why do I remember kissing you?”

“In spite of our verbal agreement in terms of appropriate contact, you felt it ‘appropriate’ to snatch the back of my neck in your hand and attempt to devour me.” Jonathan stated but the clipped nature of his words suggested his mood was somewhat sour. “It was…quite distasteful.”

Edward made a noise low in his throat to cover his embarrassment. “You know you love it, dear, so let’s not overreact.” He glanced downwards. “Also, why am I missing pants?”

“Because you removed your pants.” As though speaking to a child, Jonathans’ words were patient and laced with sarcasm as he issued relevant information at a snail pace.

“And why is my jaw throbbing?” Edward again had to throw out another question to which he had no apparent answer.

Sighing, Jonathan answered.

“Because you tried to remove MY pants.”

A simple answer which spoke volumes of untold mortification.

“I see,” Edward cupped his sore jaw gently in one hand to test the tenderness of the flesh, “and why was that an issue worth my jaw being smacked?”

“At the time we were seated at the bar stools in the Iceberg Lounge.”

“Well,” Edward paused before closing his eyes to will away his growing mortification, “in that case, I think the best course of action would be suicide. I do not see a solution to surviving this particular social embarrassment. I bid you adieu, my dearest one, and I genuinely hope the next life is kinder to me than this life has been.”

“Simmer the melodrama, Edward,” Jonathan barely refrained from an eye-roll, “because I have it on good authority that the security footage of the scene was erased and that any witnesses are sufficiently frightened enough to spread rumours.”

Brightening considerably, Edward held an uneasy grin.

“I do not say it often enough,” the redhead clasped his hands across his chest, “but that cantankerous attitude of yours really does have its uses.”


End file.
